No Pills

Five and Bajillion

*Charlie's P.O.V *

Leo has stopped responding to my calls. I can't help worrying. I promised him that I'd be safer, but what's the point of that? Here I am in front of a coffee shop, in which Mia is giggling with her aunt, and I am happy for her.

Leo's solution may be the best.

Suppressing the urge to bite my nail, I pay attention to the newspaper stand. I wonder about the news back in my country. I am not thinking... What's there to think about? I don't know how Leo's safety is assured.

A part of me wants to walk in and interrupt her aunt. I would tell her that Leo's dad kills people. I would tell her everything.

I have a chance to fix it now. I can walk in there and tell her.

But Leo said I should stay away. What's going to happen to him if I do this? I don't know... I'm scared for him.

So I say goodbye to Mia, and when her aunt texts me -

"Thank you, kid. We still need to talk about Maria. I just need the killer's name."

- I don't reply.

*

*Mia's P.O.V *

After meeting Aunt Joe, I feel at ease. The stress of school and band rehearsals doesn't even get to me.

Then the next best thing happens when I get home - she is there! Right at my front step.

"Hi, dear!" Aunt Joe quirks.

"Hi. How did you find me?!" I wonder because I forgot to give her my location in our last encounter.

"Oh, your friend, ur, Charlie. " She sits opposite me. "That reminds me - how is he?"

"Actually, I don't know," I admit.

"Why? You should call to find out how he's faring."

I shrug at her concern. "I don't have a phone."

"Oh, then I'll get you one." As if to back her rich vibe, her no-nonsense bag lands on her lap. "Ok, what else do you need?"

My eyes dilate. Within a stupendous moment, I question reality. "... Money?"

"How much?"

"Oh my..." I trail off. She's already counting a wad of cash from the bag. I blink hard as she hands it to me. "It's not that much, but I hope it can do for the meantime."

"Wow. Thank you."

She smiles. Upon my subsequent request for her to shed more light on my dad, the smile slips a bit. "Which part?"

"The part where you were like, he was framed."

"Oh, ok." Her upper body leans in. "Is here not too ur-?" She frowns at the kitchen; I must give it to her for not falling for Aunt Lisa's pretentious meekness.

We climb up to my room. She seems surprised to find my walls empty except for the calendar. Even that I have only to track the days left till the competition. I cancel out today as her gaze ambles for any hint of my personality. Little does she know what my room back in Dad's apartment looked like - Dad used to call it a haven for all phases; 'emo', athletics, country, etcetera.

She sits on the mirror chair. "Well, your dad was framed for drug dealing. I don't know if he ever saw the drugs and ran off with them or left them somewhere before coming to this country, but either way, he could have gotten in a hot mess, so I don't blame him. As a South American, he already looked like the perfect candidate to accuse."